Yogi Santokh Santi

The saint who doesn't age!

Not much is known about Yogi Santokh Santi. He was born in Punjab and from childhood he preferred
the society of holy men - or else he wished to be left alone. At young age he left his mother to sit down in the wood
100 miles from nearest village. For twelve years he said nothing.

Now he is a wandering saint that doesn't age or need much clothes in the winter. He use to travel to holy places.

When Rishi Singh Gherwal made
his search for the truth in 1922-1923 he traveled with a Saint who had a wild tiger as a friend! The Saint teached
the Secret of how to obtain friendship with wild animals.
My tongue was loosed now and I poured out a flood of questions. "You are a Master," I asserted, "I'm sure of it."

"Why?" was the non-committal reply.

"Because the tiger did not harm us."

"That is nothing. They attack only those who desire to kill them. If you have love in your heart for them and no
fear they won't harm you. Love in your heart for everyone brings a return of love."

"Master, will you explain the secret of making a tiger like you?"

Do not call me Master," he admonished me. "As for the secret of course I will explain. If man will relinquish the idea
of killing, the love of every creature will be his."

"How long will it take to do this?"

He answered that if in twelve years the hand, eyes or tongue have not killed, the power will be gained.

For many who do not destroy with the hand, do so with the eyes or tongue. Neither animal or mankind
will attack this loving one, nor will opposition of any kind be presented.

"Must one, Master, do anything else except abstain from killing any living creature?"

"Yes, my son, he should have love in his heart for everyone, but he should not fix his affection on any
particular one, holding all in love. Nor should he fear death anywhere or at any time. He is above death,
realizing he is not bound by the narrow walls of flesh and bone but is soul or spirit, of all and in all. His
prayer should be" :

There is no jealousy, no fear,
I am the dearest of the dear;
No rival, no foe,
No injury, no woe,

Om, Om, Om!

Nothing can harm me,
Nothing alarm me,
The soul of all
The nectar falls,

Om, Om, Om !

The Heavens and stars
Worlds near and far
Are hung and strung
On the songs I sung,